


Explosions In The Sky

by Calex



Series: Brain & Brawn [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Assassins, Domestic, M/M, Mad Scientists, Original Fiction, Original Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-21
Updated: 2009-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-13 03:51:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calex/pseuds/Calex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brad clearly should be a housewife. God knows Ren needs one. Well, that or a keeper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Explosions In The Sky

  
He'd just pulled into the driveway when he heard a loud, muffled bang. The sound made him flinch and he instinctively reached for the gun in its little ankle holster before his brain caught up and he froze. His eyes flickered towards the house, to the wide open windows that were letting out thick plumes of smoke. There was the faint wail of the smoke detector going off, but Brad ignored that, choosing instead to focus on the smoke itself. That's when he saw that it was tinged slightly green and he relaxed. It lasted mere seconds, however, before his shoulders were back up and tight, eyes wary. He looked at the house, noted that smoke was starting to trickle out from under the door as well as the chimney, then smoothed his palm down the slight bumps of the steering wheel lovingly, longingly. There was a second, slightly quieter bang and now the green tinged smoke also had a faint tinge of pink, and even from where he was, still inside the car, he could smell strawberries.

With a sigh, Brad pushed open the door and stepped out, leaning heavily against the still warm hood with his arms crossed. No other sounds made out, no more bangs of coloured smoke and now that he was outside, the scent of strawberries clashed nauseatingly with the mysterious chemicals that always clung to Ren. Ren still hadn't run out of the house so really, that left two possibilities: he was either fine and didn't even notice the mess, or he was unconscious. Possibility three niggled at his head and he conceded the point. Ren could also probably be dead.

With heavy feet, Brad dragged himself to the front door. He stopped about a foot away and eyed it warily. The door just puffed out green and pink tinted smoke at him merrily, like some kind of Disney fairytale witch's cottage. Carefully, he tapped at the door with the tip of a scuffed combat boot. The door held, which was somewhat of a relief. He nudged harder, and it still held. He glanced over his shoulder at his car, and thought briefly of driving away somewhere, maybe take on one more hit... but then resolutely turned back. His hand hovered over the doorknob and he let out a relieved sigh when he discovered that the temperature was normal. He'd known it would be, if his house was burning down, he'd have felt it by now, or heard something. And the smoke would definitely not be green and pink. Still, it never hurt to be sure.

It took very little time for him to open the door, shove it wide and jump nimbly off the porch as quickly as possible and as he landed steadily on his feet, he thought wryly that it was sad how practiced he was at that, now. He had perfect timing; just as he'd moved, a rush of pungent smoke whooshed out, and Brad raised his black turtleneck to cover his nose, hand reaching into his pocket for his phone. Another sad fact, he reflected as he hit 2, was that he now had the Fire Department on speed dial. A friendly, professional female voice greeted him and he leaned back against the wall as the house belched out another burst of smoke. He thought it might be purple this time, but then steadfastly refused to think about it again.

"Hey, Mary," he said. "Just wanted you to know that it's a false alarm. Ren's... being Ren."

"Good thing you called, Whittaker," Mary said blandly, but he could still hear the humour in her voice loud and clear. "We were about to send someone over to your place in the next two minutes."

"I just came back when it happened," Brad admitted, getting comfortable as he eyed the house warily. "But nothing's exploded or burning yet, so I guess that's a plus."

"Make sure it stays that way," she told him, and then he heard the phone beeping and knew the conversation was over. "I need to get that, I'm pretty sure that's one of your neighbours complaining about you again. You two do realise that we're not your secretaries or PR reps, right?"

"Sorry," he said. "I'll keep an eye on Ren. Thanks again."

"Stay in one piece," she ordered, and then the line went silent. Brad flipped his phone shut before shooting another look at the house. The smoke had thinned out, so he hoped that it would be safe for him to _breathe_. Then again with Ren, you never knew. With a sigh, he jogged to his car and popped the trunk open. He flicked the blanket over and opened a big black box, riffling through various guns, grenades, rifles and knives before he pulled out a gas mask. He slammed the trunk shut and made his way to the house, slipping the mask on as he went in. Everything was a little hazy, but he could see well enough not to trip over anything (the last time that happened, the Fire Department had barged in and after they'd ascertained that no real damage was going on, had proceeded to laugh at him for a good ten minutes. He'd never felt more like killing off civilians) and made his way to a heavily reinforced door near the kitchen that lead to Ren's lab. The door was open, but he still couldn't see Ren anywhere. He made his way carefully down the steps and stopped dead.

Ren was sitting by a big table in front of some kind of complicated science apparatus, measuring liquids and muttering to himself as he jotted down notes. He wasn't wearing a gas mask, though, so Brad assumed that at least the fumes weren't toxic. Just before he slipped the mask off, he stopped. This was _Ren_. Ren wouldn't notice if the gas was poisonous and would just keep on working like nothing was wrong. So he kept the mask on and made his way to his lover.

Ren's white lab coat was buttoned wrong, and there was a smudge of bright green ink that ran from the top of his cheekbone to his chin. His blond hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and if he tilted his head and squinted slightly, it sort of looked like a bird's nest. Knowing Ren, he'd probably ran his fingers through it, forgetting that he'd tied it back and it was sticking out in weird angles. He was also covered in strange coloured dust, from where, Brad wasn't quite sure. He just stood and watched Ren for a while, confident that Ren wouldn't even notice he was there - though he _had_ been trying to cure him of his obliviousness, it was just dangerous the way he shut out the world when he was working - and he was right. He must have been standing around for nearly half an hour before he glanced at his watch and realised it was nearly time for dinner and there was no food ready. He gave Ren another glance, then shook his head before moving over to stand behind Ren. Taking off the mask, he waited until Ren was done pouring liquid into the strange apparatus before he draped an arm around Ren's shoulders and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. Ren just leaned back against him, tipping his head back to accept the kiss that Brad gave him. He was still distracted, though, and Brad nipped his lips in retaliation.

"I'll make dinner. Make sure you don't kill yourself before then," he said. Ren just made a vague noise that he supposed was meant to be agreement, but Brad knew his mind was already on the... thing he was doing. Making. Whatever. He wasn't going to think about it. Rolling his eyes, he pressed another kiss to the back of Ren's neck before retreating. Now the whole house stank of strawberries and chemicals and... he took a cautious whiff and blanched. He was pretty sure that smell was eau de rotting body, but thankfully that was just a slight undertone. Still, the combination made his head ache and he knew it wouldn't disappear for a few days. Sighing, he went to open all the windows in the house, before starting dinner. He didn't think his stomach could take anything heavy, but knowing Ren, he hadn't eaten lunch and he'd only nibbled slightly on the breakfast that Brad had made before he'd gone off. He settled on making fettucini with a light tomato and basil sauce, along with some cold meat and salad. He'd bought some oranges the day before, so that would settle for dessert. A beer for him and iced tea for Ren completed the meal.

It didn't take long, and after he was done, he set the table for two before going down to drag Ren from the lab. They ate companionably, chatting idly about their day and whatever notable gossip Brad had managed to glean from the little old ladies that shopped at the same grocery store that he did. Ren was being unusually reticent about discussing what he was doing, though, and that made Brad a little suspicious. When Ren didn't talk about his work, it usually meant that Brad wasn't going to like it, which was trouble. Or that Brad would like it too much, which was pretty much the same thing, really. Still, it made him curious but every subtle and non-subtle attempt he made at bringing it up only had Ren looking at him in innocent blankness that Brad knew, bone deep, was feigned. Still, he let him off. Ren could never keep a secret for long and Brad knew that he'd get the answer out of him sooner or later, and he had a better chance of knowing when Ren was distracted with work. So he let him go back to the lab while he cleaned up, washing dishes that never got a chance to pile up.

It was much later that night when Ren finally stumbled back up. Brad looked up at him from the tops of his non-prescription clear lenses, eyebrow raised. Ren just groaned while he fell face down on the bed, still fully clothed. Brad sighed. That only meant that Ren had stayed up all night last night, and probably had been too caught up with work to take a nap, either. He placed his book on the bedside table, then stripped Ren with efficient familiarity. Ren wasn't wearing underwear, he never did when Science ran in his brain in a jumble of excited, nonsensical (to Brad's mind, at least) numbers and letters and equations. The sight still had his breath hitching, but logic overruled his libido, even though his dick was screaming at him to take advantage of Ren's bare, unprotected ass. Still, despite everything, Brad wasn't that kind of guy. Plus, Ren's already prominently shadowed eyes were even more shadowed with tiredness, standing out of his pale face like dark bruises roughly the size of Brad's thumbs.

When he lied back down on the bed, Ren made a muffled sound of tiredness and moved closer to him, draped along his side and Brad just sighed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to bring him closer. He kissed Ren on the cheek and settled down to sleep. He'd try asking what Ren was doing again tomorrow. Then, with hardly another thought, Brad slept.


End file.
